Happiest New Year's Ever
by Zivacentric
Summary: Abby has feelings for Ziva that are one-sided. Or are they? What should one agitated scientist do on New Year's Eve to start 2012 off with a fresh start? Written for smackalicious. More sweet than hot, but there's some sizzle. :p
1. An Agitated Abby

_A/N: This was written for my friend Santa Smackalicious on NFA with THANKS for all her terrific Secret Santa moderating work as it is a pairing we both enjoy. A second - longer! -chapter will be posted soon to close this story out. _

_I own nothing related to NCIS or Ben & Jerry's, though I wouldn't mind of I did!_

_This first chapter is all Abby and I hope you enjoy it - and that you'll let me know if you do. =) Thanks for reading! _

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><p>Abby Sciuto walked into her apartment after finishing work on New Year's Eve, completely disgusted with herself. If she lost her train of thought one more time while giving evidence results to Gibbs, he was going to end up slapping her upside the back of her head and he <em>never <em>did that – not to her. And it wasn't even her fault, she all but whined to herself; it was _hers_.

Yeah, that was it, Abby decided, using her burst of righteous indignation to fuel the effort needed to hang up her coat and bag on the stand near the door. If _she_ wasn't so … so … sexy … so … mouthwateringly gorgeous … if _she'd_ stop winking at her for crying out loud, then Abby could concentrate.

And who the hell knew cargo pants could be so damn _hot_?

The almost-kiss today had finally nearly sent one poor, smitten forensic scientist over the edge. And the blame for that she laid at the feet of one Very Special Agent Tony DiNozzo – and the woman who'd clearly decided to channel her inner naughty ninja when Tony had dared her to kiss Abby under the mistletoe in her lab.

The Goth refused to acknowledge her own culpability in that situation. So what if she had been the one to hang the greenery up before Christmas and had yet to take it down?

The woman on the other end of Tony's challenge had gotten a look in her eye that managed to be teasing, seductive and unreadable all at the same time. She'd ambled over to Abby with that roll of her hips that only she could do, then slowly, so … slowly aimed her mouth toward the Goth's. Abby's heart had pounded and she literally hadn't been able to breathe. The other woman's breath had been close enough to caress Abby's lips before she'd changed her angle slightly and pressed a very soft, clingy kiss to Abby's cheek, almost too close to her mouth, but not really close enough at all.

Abby had stood frozen, knowing if she moved a muscle it would be to turn her head and capture the other woman's mouth with her own. She figured her dreams of that were destined to remain just that – dreams. However, if by some miracle a kiss ever did happen between them, it wasn't going to be in front of an audience. Abby hadn't been able to stop the pulse at the base of her throat from fluttering wildly, though … had it just been wishful thinking that the other woman's eyes had fixed there and darkened with desire? Yeah, probably.

Then, as fast as it had come, all the wind went out of her sails. The reality was that the star in her innermost fantasies couldn't help that she was beautiful, smart, tempting and totally kick-ass. She was just being herself.

Ziva.

Abby went into her bedroom and changed into a comfortable pair of old yoga pants and a tight olive green t-shirt that had a tendency to ride up on her middle. She washed her face and combed her pigtails out, then pulled her hair up in one high ponytail. She was supposed to go clubbing with a bunch of friends to celebrate the New Year tonight, but had already called to beg off. She just wasn't up for it.

She examined the faint shadows under her eyes. God, she was even losing sleep over this now. If she wasn't dreaming about Ziva, she was worrying about hiding her ever-increasing obsession – er, um, feelings – for the Israeli. The lack of sleep was also contributing to her concentration problems at work, which was just inexcusable and totally unlike her. And if Ziva was the one to bring evidence to the lab or if she came along to hear Abby's results, then forget it – she was _really_ focus-challenged.

And, as if this wasn't enough of a distraction, someone had started leaving her little gifts and she had no idea who it was. It was driving her bonkers. The presents ranged from mini-Caf-Pows to full-size ones, from death-by-chocolate cupcakes to black roses. At first, she'd gotten paranoid; being stalked in the past could do that to a girl. Over time, though, it just didn't have that feel to it.

Abby had tried every system she could think of to catch the culprit red-handed, but to no avail. She had not been able to capture the giver on tape, find residue on anyone's hands or clothing or even trip the person with a good, old-fashioned trip wire. It was beyond frustrating.

Not that the gifts weren't welcome; they were always exactly something she needed or loved. But she _would_ like to thank the person. After all, her lovable Southern parents had raised her and her brother with an excellent set of manners.

Plus … maybe, just maybe, if someone was doing this because they were attracted to her, if they were trying to communicate their feelings in a secret-admirer-kind-of-way, then _maybe_ it would be someone in whom she could be interested and finally move beyond these feelings she had for Ziva that had somehow morphed over the years from "I don't like you" to "Could I puh-_lease_ put my hands under your clothes and my tongue in your mouth?" Sigh.

Abby padded into the kitchen and stood in front of the now-open refrigerator, staring indecisively at the contents. Nothing really sounded good. Except wine. Yep, that suddenly sounded very good. Oh! And what better to go with that than the brand new pint of Ben & Jerry's Imagine Whirled Peace ice cream? Oh, yeah, baby. That should do the drowning-her-Ziva-sorrows trick. Luckily, the wine she was in the mood for was a sweet red … a perfect combination, if she said so herself.

Besides, if she drank enough of the wine, maybe it would help her sleep. Tomorrow was a holiday and she didn't have to work, but she had a hunch that her secret gift giver would take the opportunity to strike and she wanted to go in early in another attempt to catch the person in the act. The gift could appear at any time of day, but walking in to find one first thing in the morning was the most common occurrence no matter how early Abby managed to get there.

Halfway through the carton of ice cream and after only a couple of sips of wine, Abby inexplicably had one of her sudden changes of heart. This was pathetic. Drowning her sorrows in ice cream and wine – even if both were damn good – instead of tackling the problem head on was just not like her.

Okay. Look at the evidence, Scuito, she told herself. You like Ziva. Really, REALLY like Ziva. Truth be told, you love Ziva, but whoa! No need to get completely carried away here. Ziva probably doesn't feel the same way.

"_Probably?" _a voice said inside her head.

"Yeah, probably," Abby answered, not even noticing that she was talking out loud in response. "As in probably not. Maybe. I don't know."

"_You don't know?"_ the voice persisted.

"Yes, I know she probably doesn't," Abby maintained stubbornly.

"_There's that 'probably' word again."_

Okay, that voice was really starting to work her last nerve, even if it sounded exactly like herself and was coming from inside her own head.

"_What keeps you from saying a firm 'no, she doesn't like me that way' – and meaning it?" _the voice prodded.

"Nothing," Abby answered automatically. After a brief pause, she continued. "Well, okay – sometimes she flirts with me. But Ziva flirts with everyone, even Gibbs sometimes. Not in a bad, sleazy way, in a sizzly, fun …" Abby drifted off for a moment. "… yummy kind of way."

"_What else?"_

"Sometimes she looks at me." Abby stopped.

"_Looks at you?" _the voice poked at her a little disbelievingly.

"Yeah, you know – _looks_ at me," Abby tried to clarify unhelpfully. "When she thinks I'm not looking. And then …"

"'_And then' – what?"_

"Well, the way she almost kissed me today. Like, I think she was just messing with Tony, but … it felt a little like maybe something more was going on, too, like maybe she _wanted_ to kiss me. Maybe. Probably not. I told you, I don't know - !"

Abby got hold of herself. This was ridiculous and getting her nowhere except to the bottom of her carton of ice cream. Damn. It was gone already?

She should do something. Take action. Yes, that was it. She should march over to Ziva's and admit her feelings so that Ziva could shoot her down and then Abby could surely move on. Ziva wouldn't be mean about it; their friendship was too close for that. And then Abby could begin the new year with a resolution for a fresh start, leaving her feelings for Ziva in 2011 and starting 2012 with a whole new outlook.

She ignored the empty feeling even the very idea of that brought. Apparently part of her didn't want to rid herself of loving Ziva, even if that was never meant to be a two-way street.

She stood from the couch in a determined manner, quickly slipped on some shoes and grabbed her coat to head out into the chilly night. She stopped before crossing the threshold into the hallway and looked down at her attire. Maybe she should change into something more attractive or at least put on some makeup.

Oh, forget it. She had no idea what to wear and it wasn't likely to matter anyhow. Besides, the elastic waistband on these pants would come in handy when she came home and dove into that Chocolate Therapy ice cream that she'd been saving for just such an occasion. Speaking of that, maybe she should stop and get more on the way home. One pint wasn't likely to do it.

And with that, she was out the door.

_TBC ..._


	2. A Very Zabby New Year

_A/N: In addition to being for my gal smackalicious, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to all of you who read my femmeslash, especially my Zibbs folks who have followed me into the world of Zabby and Jiva on four different occasions now. That really means the world to me. =) Hugs - and happy reading!_

_For those of you following "Brewed Awakenings," an update will be posted very soon. _:-)

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><p>Across town, Ziva sat in her toasty warm apartment, comfortable in thin soft flannel jammie pants and a black fitted camisole, completely unaware that she was the subject of Abby's thoughts. She had thoughts of her own consuming her – well, some serious plotting, to be exact.<p>

Abby was getting harder and harder to surprise.

She really wasn't sure why she'd begun this little game. True, she had feelings for the forensic scientist that went far deeper than their friendship and had felt a zing of attraction to the other woman the moment they'd met – and God have mercy, those flirty little short skirts and tight t-shirts drove her _crazy_.

It hadn't even mattered that Abby clearly hadn't liked her at first; Ziva had been immediately captivated by the Goth in a way she hadn't been in what felt like forever. Happily, their relationship had begun changing before too long and they were solid friends. Ziva knew a lot about Abby, but wanted to know more. A lot more. Preferably along the lines of "What do you feel like under those short little skirts and can I see _all_ of your tattoos?"

Whatever the reason, she'd begun leaving Abby little gifts. It was fun … and it felt like telling Abby that she was wanted and loved without really telling her. Normally Ziva tackled her issues head on, consequences be damned, but Abby and their friendship were too important to her to risk admitting that she'd like to be more than friends without some indication that those feelings were reciprocated. She didn't think so … although now and then she would swear she caught a hint of longing in Abby's arresting green eyes directed her way surreptitiously as Abby chewed on her bottom lip adorably. But then Abby would turn away and Ziva would decide it had all been wishful thinking.

Then again … there had been that almost-kiss today in Abby's lab. Ziva had refused to back down from Tony's challenge, but had nearly done herself in with her own actions. It had been unexpectedly difficult to turn her lips from Abby's at the last second. The racing of Abby's pulse had snagged Ziva and suggested that maybe she'd really wanted that kiss … The only thing that had saved her had been the elated noise Tony had made which had reminded her she wasn't alone with the Goth.

She didn't know for sure, but her guess was that Abby had dated women as well as men. However, that did not mean that she was attracted to one particular female Israeli.

And none of that even began to cover what Gibbs' reaction would be. Something along the lines of _What exactly is confusing about "never date a coworker," David? _she imagined – probably accompanied by a head slap.

Sigh.

Even though tonight was New Year's Eve, Ziva wasn't going out. She'd been invited to join McGee at the party in his apartment complex or go bar-hopping with Tony and his buddies, but she had no interest in loud crowds tonight. She'd overheard Abby talking a few days ago about the huge bash some of her friends had arranged at their favorite club and the Israeli tried not to picture Abby dressed to the nines in some sexy dress and in the arms of some faceless guy when the clock struck midnight.

She refused to acknowledge that she just might be wallowing in a little self pity.

Ziva made herself a salad for dinner and poured a glass of wine. She wasn't going anywhere so she fully intended to finish the whole bottle tonight. She even carried it along with her plate and glass as she made herself comfortable on the couch. She tucked into her dinner, turning her ruminating to more pleasant thoughts: her next move in surprising Abby.

Maybe she should try planting her next present tomorrow, as she knew Abby was not scheduled to work … No. Abby would be expecting that.

Halfway through eating, her doorbell rang. Surprised, she got up to answer it. She really didn't get many visitors and she figured most people had plans on a night like tonight.

It wasn't far to the door, but before she could even get there, the person on the other side started knocking. Rather insistently.

Looking through the peephole – why didn't Americans call it a peak hole? After all, that is what you did through it – she saw Abby standing on the other side looking far more casual than she normally did. To say she was stunned was an understatement. The Goth should have been on her way to that club by now, or at least getting ready to go.

Ziva immediately opened the door. "Abby. Are you all right?"

The visit was so unexpected that Ziva forgot to even say hello, so intent was she on cutting to the chase on any problem Abby might be having and coming to her rescue.

"Hey, Ziva. Um, yeah. Well, no." Abby suddenly had the urge to turn tail and run. "Actually, never mind. Just forget I was here. See you at work. Oh, and Happy New Year."

And with all that, Abby turned to go, muttering under her breath.

Ziva took one step forward and laid her hand on her friend's arm. "Abby? You are welcome to come in."

"Notsurethat'ssuchagoodidea," Abby mumbled, looking at the wall beside the door. She had her arms crossed in front of herself, her hands gripping her upper arms, her shoulders hunched a little.

Ziva's brow wrinkled as she replayed what she'd heard, trying to decipher it. When she thought she had the gist of it, she asked, "Why not?"

Abby just shrugged and looked everywhere but at Ziva. She'd been so determined all the way over here, but now she was so nervous that she thought her heart might beat out of her chest and she wasn't at all sure she could actually go through with this. Maybe she was just better off living in her own little world of secretly longing for Ziva from afar.

The Israeli had no idea what was going on, but something was clearly up with her friend. And she seemed so … lost standing there, that Ziva's heart melted. There was no way she couldn't try to take care of her, even if being in such close proximity to Abby privately and unexpectedly might make it difficult for Ziva to keep her own feelings and desires under wraps.

While few people were privileged to see the tender side of the former assassin, Abby roused that like no one else.

And, for her part, Abby was drawn to Ziva's warmth, her understated gentleness like a moth was drawn to a flame.

Ziva's smile was nothing but genuine as she invited, "Please – come in. I am glad you are here."

She tugged on Abby's arm and the Goth gave in with a sigh. This was probably a huge mistake, but maybe it was better this way. Besides, she loved having moments alone with Ziva and maybe she could absorb one more before she ruined their friendship by admitting she wanted more than that.

Abby stepped through the door and Ziva took her coat.

"It appears it is snowing again," Ziva observed, brushing the flakes off the jacket before hanging it in the closet.

"What?" Abby asked, clearly bringing her mind back from someplace else. "Oh. Yeah, I guess it is. I didn't really notice."

"You drove all the way here and you 'didn't really notice'?" Ziva's tone fell somewhere between disbelief and concerned.

"Um, yeah," Abby mumbled. "Had something on my mind."

She went uncharacteristically silent.

Ziva gestured for her guest to have a seat on the couch.

"May I get you something to drink? I am having a glass of wine, if you would like to join me," Ziva said.

"Okay, sure," Abby agreed, finally really glancing at Ziva and feeling her stomach drop when she noticed how sexy she looked in that black camisole.

Ziva went to the kitchen to grab another glass. Abby's stomach suddenly clenched with nerves. She knew she'd never be able to handle the wine, despite her earlier intention to down an entire bottle at home.

"Actually, um, Ziva?" Abby called, getting up to walk into the kitchen. "Do you have some tea or something I could have instead? My stomach's feeling kinda … gurgly."

Ziva grinned inwardly at Zbby's description.

"Certainly." The Israeli moved to the cabinet where she kept her teas and pulled down an assortment from which Abby could choose.

"You know, never mind," Abby changed her mind unexpectedly. "Don't go to any trouble. I'll just have water. Or maybe nothing. Yeah, nothing's fine."

Ziva turned to look at her friend full in the face. The look in her own eyes went from open and friendly to concerned to downright worried. Leaving the counter, she took the few steps that put her right in front of Abby. Reaching out, she took both of the Goth's hands in her own and squeezed gently.

"Abby," Ziva said softly. "What has your stomach so gurgly? And the rest of you so nervous?"

"Nervous? What makes you think I'm nervous?" Abby tried to sound nonchalant, but failed miserably. She was gripping Ziva's hands back so tightly that her own knuckles were turning white, which was another dead giveaway that something was up. She tried to brave looking into Ziva's eyes, but couldn't hold her gaze.

"I have known you a long time, Abigail Scuito," Ziva began. "I can tell the difference between your excited talking and your worried talking."

Abby cautiously found Ziva's eyes with her own.

A teasing light came into that brown-eyed gaze, giving them an alluring sparkle. "Besides, I have been trained to notice details and the death grip you have on my hands is quite telling."

Abby gave a start and immediately looked down at their joined hands.

"Oh! I'm really sor-" She tried to pull her hands away, but Ziva was having none of that.

"There is no need for apologies, Abby," Ziva assured her, cutting her words off kindly and hanging onto her hands. "How about we make some tea and sit for a bit? Perhaps then you will be able to share with me what is on your mind." Ziva's smile was gentle and supportive and Abby couldn't help but cave.

Abby took a deep breath. This is what she'd come for, after all – to talk to Ziva. She was so nervous she was afraid she might hurl, but she didn't want to chicken out.

"Okay," she acquiesced quietly, at last holding that chocolate gaze for more than a couple of seconds. "Thanks, Ziva."

The Israeli squeezed her hands. "You are welcome."

Abby chose a mango peach tea and Ziva also brewed a cup for herself. She fully intended to finish her wine at some point, but she enjoyed the camaraderie of joining Abby in a cup of tea, as well.

Soon, the two returned to the couch, mugs of tea in hand. Abby noticed the remains of Ziva's salad. "Oh, I interrupted your dinner. You should go ahead and eat."

Ziva shrugged. "I have had enough for now. Have you eaten? I could fix you something."

An impish light came into Abby's green eyes and she instantly looked more like her old self. "Oh, I ate – a whole pint of Ben & Jerry's Imagine Whirled Peace ice cream."

Ziva grinned. "Sounds far more delicious than my salad."

"Yeah, but not nearly as good for the size of my ass as your choice is for yours." Abby blushed a little as she pictured Ziva's very fine derriere in her mind's eye.

"Oh, there is nothing wrong with your ass – or anything else about you," Ziva returned in a low voice that sent shivers skittering down Abby's spine.

Abby swallowed hard even as her stomach tingled at the suggestion that hovered on the outskirts of Ziva's tone. She leaned forward and sat her tea on the table in front of the couch.

"See? That's it," Abby said, seemingly out of the blue. "That's what has my stomach all gurgly."

Ziva's brow furrowed. "I do not understand."

"That, that sexy, flirty thing you do that you do with everyone, but when you do it to me my knees get all weak and my heart beats fast and my stomach gets all …" She broke off to gesture with her hands.

"Gurgly," Ziva finished softly, her own heart beginning to race.

"Exactly," Abby nodded. "I know you don't mean anything by it – just fun – but, well, maybe I want you to mean it. Not that you ever would because I'm so not your type."

Ziva had gone very still except for her pulse, which was still galloping madly. She surreptitiously pinched herself to make sure this wasn't just another dream. _Ouch_. Nope, definitely not a dream.

Reining in a sudden urge to crow "_Yes!_" and tackle the taller woman into the couch cushions with a single leap, Ziva settled for asking, "What is my type, exactly?"

"You know – handsome. Maybe military or cop. Or spy. Smooth, but real. Probably Jewish. Oh, and male." Abby stopped.

Ziva sat her mug on the table beside Abby's as she silently debated how to respond. She knew what she wanted to say – and do – but she didn't want to scare the other woman off, especially when it appeared as though the secret wish of her heart might be coming true.

"See? Nothing like me," Abby continued. "And we're friends, good friends, and I don't want to lose that. So just go ahead and tell me thanks, but no thanks and that I need to get my heart wrapped around the fact that that's all we'll ever be so I can hopefully move on."

Abby stood up from the couch. "There – great. Thanks. I'll just be going now." She only had time for one step before Ziva's words stopped her.

"I have not actually said anything yet," she pointed out softly.

Abby froze.

"If I admitted that I have no interest in saying those things to you, would you stay?" Ziva's voice was almost sultry, curling through Abby like a ribbon of warmth.

"Ziva?" Abby whispered, not looking at the other woman.

The Israeli stood and tugged gently on one of Abby's hands. "Will you please sit back down, Abby?" she invited quietly.

Abby swallowed hard, then nodded. Both women sat back down on the couch, though Ziva sat noticeably closer this time and kept hold of Abby's hand. Abby looked steadfastly at the floor.

"Perhaps I should begin by saying that I do mean it when I flirt with you, though I am just teasing with the others." Ziva paused. "And I suppose I have dated people like you described … but I have dated others, as well … including women."

Abby went completely still and her heart pounded even faster. She risked a look at Ziva out of the corner of her eye and was arrested by the tender gaze directed toward her out of those brown eyes that she could just cheerfully fall right into. Slowly, she turned a little toward the other woman so she could gaze into that beautiful face framed by those chocolate curls that she longed to bury her hands in. Hope was dawning in her expressive green eyes, though she was afraid to truly believe this was actually happening.

Ziva smiled as if she knew exactly what Abby was thinking. She reached out and smoothed back a strand of hair that had come loose from Abby's ponytail, then gently cupped her cheek.

"The truth is that I have been attracted to you since I first laid eyes on you," Ziva admitted, "even though you did not like me at all back then." A trace of sadness crossed her features as she lowered her hand to her lap.

"It wasn't you, not exactly. It was just …" Abby stopped and looked directly into Ziva's eyes. "I'm sorry if I hurt you."

Ziva shrugged lightly as if to say it was of no consequence, but Abby wasn't buying it. This time brown eyes skittered away from green.

"Ziva." Abby's voice was nothing but sure now. She tugged Ziva's hand until the other woman looked back at her again. "I'm sorry. I was wrong. I was just too caught up in everything that had happened to really see you for who you are at first. But once I did, I liked you. And then … I started falling for you."

She reached a hand up and tucked Ziva's hair behind her left ear, loving the way Ziva unconsciously pressed her cheek into Abby's palm.

"I really don't want to ruin our friendship and I don't even want to think yet about what Gibbs is going to say, but I want to be with you … as more than friends. And if you want that, too, then this would be the happiest New Year's ever for me."

A beautiful smile curved Ziva's lips and her eyes lit with all the emotion she felt for this remarkable woman, feelings that she'd resolutely boxed up into a secret compartment, certain they were destined not to be returned.

"I do want that, Abby," Ziva whispered. "More than I could ever say."

She had just a moment to register Abby's delighted grin before she found herself on the receiving end of one of Abby's attack hugs. Nothing had ever felt so right as Ziva caught her close and returned the favor. A charmed laugh escaped Ziva's throat, pulling an answering one from the woman in her arms.

Abby pulled back just far enough to look at Ziva's lovely features, all her feelings finally on display in her own green eyes.

Slowly their heads tilted toward one another. Their breath caught and their hearts pounded. Then their lips met soft and warm and clinging for the first time and all else left both their heads except for reveling in this new aspect of their connection.

Their lips moved slowly at first, sliding, tugging, learning the taste, the feel of each other. Abby's stomach clenched again, but for entirely different reasons than earlier. She'd wanted Ziva before, but now that she was touching her, kissing her, the desire she felt threatened to rage out of control.

Then she felt Ziva's tongue trace along the seam of her lips requesting entrance and her fingers on the smooth curve of Abby's waist that had been exposed by her shirt, and the reins snapped.

Suddenly, they were practically devouring one another and the next thing Abby knew, Ziva had her pressed into the cushions along the back of the couch, one jammie-clad leg over hers, her hands cupping Abby's face, fingers tunneling into straight black hair.

When they finally came up for air, Ziva's mouth continued to taste Abby's skin, skimming along her jaw to her ear, then down her neck. At last her tongue came out to trace that spider web tattoo.

"I have always wanted to do this," Ziva breathed against her skin, the very tip of her tongue leaving a sizzling trail everywhere it touched.

"Ohmygod," Abby muttered. "That drives me crazy."

"Good," Ziva announced with satisfaction, not stopping her exploration for a second. "That should make up for all those short skirts you wear that drive _me _crazy."

"They do, huh?" Abby grinned coyly. "Good to know. Although you don't need skirts to make my hormones sit up and beg. No one rocks a pair of cargo pants like you do." Abby lowered her head and nuzzled Ziva's neck, her hands delving under that black cami to caress the silky tanned skin underneath.

Ziva's laugh could only be described as seductive. "Good to know," she copied.

They captured each other's lips in another kiss that went on and on, spinning out, communicating from one soul to another.

Several long, delicious moments later, they came up for air, their foreheads resting against each other, just breathing one another in. Ziva pulled back far enough to look at Abby's lovely features.

"What made you come here tonight, Abby?" she asked softly.

The Goth shrugged lightly.

"My feelings for you have been getting more and more distracting. I figured I'd better do something before Gibbs starts head-slapping me," Abby admitted wryly. "And …"

When she paused, Ziva prodded her.

"And?"

"Well, when you almost kissed me today …" Abby started, "I kinda had the feeling that maybe you really wanted to and heaven knows I really wanted you to – though not in front of Tony." A teasing light came into her striking green eyes. "Not the first time, anyway."

Ziva laughed seductively.

"I did want to kiss you," she revealed in a voice gone husky with emotion. "I almost did not move to your cheek."

"The whole thing just had me really off balance," Abby continued. "I decided if I could do something to settle at least one thing in my life, I should do it. See, there's this other thing. Someone's leaving me stuff in my lab and –" She broke off as Ziva's smile took on a decidedly Cheshire cat quality.

"It's you!" Abby exclaimed, joy positively bubbling inside her.

Ziva nodded.

Abby tackle-hugged her again and reveled in the feel of Ziva in her arms and returning the embrace.

"Why?" the Goth whispered, separating from the hug enough to see the other woman's face again.

Ziva shrugged.

"I really do not know," she shared quietly. "Perhaps I was trying to tell you how I felt without saying it out loud … and maybe I even hoped you would notice."

"Oh, I noticed," Abby returned with feeling, "but I had no idea it was you." Her eyes twinkled. "Shoulda guessed, though, when I couldn't catch the person. Only you and your ninja skills could outsmart me," she added in a cheeky tone.

Ziva laughed delightedly and pulled Abby in for another kiss, just because she could.

After their lips parted, they sat simply holding each other for a long while, Ziva's face tucked into Abby's neck. Each was lost in her own thoughts.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" Ziva sighed into the silence.

Abby started to say yes without hesitation, then she paused.

"What is it?" Ziva asked, her brow wrinkling slightly in concern, tilting her head back so they could see each other.

"I want to stay," Abby began, "but before we do that, you should know that I want more than a one night stand with you, Ziva. I know I've sucked at commitment in the past, but I want to be with you, only you and I want you to be with only me … and maybe that's moving too fast for you."

Ziva's eyes gentled even as they burned with the intensity of her feelings for this woman. "It is not too soon for that, Abby; that is what I want, too." Her hand lifted to gently caress Abby's face. "I love you."

Abby grabbed her again and squeezed. "I love you, too - and I would love to stay tonight."

They kissed again and again, until Ziva stood and offered her hand to Abby. She pulled her into the bedroom where they made love slowly, both swept away on powerful feelings that were new to them.

Afterwards, Abby lay with her head pillowed on Ziva's soft breasts, both of them near to boneless. Ziva's fingertips lightly traced over as much of Abby's sexy, tattooed back as she could reach before her hands came up to smooth through the silky mass of her hair that had come loose from its ponytail long before.

"Do me a favor?" Abby mumbled without opening her eyes.

"Anything," Ziva answered, a smile in her tone.

"If this is just another one of my dreams about you, don't wake me up in the morning, 'k?" Abby asked, her voice completely serious.

"And if it is real?" Ziva asked. Then she added in a stage whisper, "Because it is."

Abby exerted enough effort to tilt her head and look up at Ziva's twinkling brown eyes.

"Well, then, feel free to wake me whenever you want," Abby answered in a sultry tone and a heated look. "Provided you don't intend to leave the bed anytime soon."

"We will be lucky to leave this bed for a week, if I have anything to say about it," Ziva informed her hotly, pulling her face up for a deep kiss.

Oh, yeah - no doubt about it. This was definitely the happiest New Year's _ever_.

~ _The End~_


End file.
